A Busy Schedule (English Version)
by Ribonette
Summary: After she left, I had to go back to my schedule. A busy schedule. [Song fic based on "The benefits of heart break" by Epik High]


**A Busy Schedule**

* * *

_This fic is based on the song B_enefits of a heart break_, by _Epik High.

_*Listening to the track while reading is highly recommended.*_

* * *

I usually didn't smoke. After all, you didn't like it.

I had learned at university, practically forced by my friends. I smoked with them one or two cigarettes during the long study sessions, but besides that, I didn't even carry a pack, or a lighter.

However, here I am. I hold the cigar between my lips, and cover my mouth so that the flame doesn't go out. A quick whiff, and the cigar lights, so I leave the lighter on the railing, and I look at the landscape.

It's autumn, the night is cold, and the pedestrian influx is almost null. The few who dare to leave their warm homes at this late in the night, are people who walk in a hurry, and wearing heavy and warm clothes. A couple of streets below, under the yellow lights of the street lighting, the avenue shows how the vehicles are equally scarce. The traffic light changes from green to yellow, and then to red, while the cigarettes in the pack gradually run out.

I hold it between my lips. One click to the lighter. A quick whiff. And once again a glimpse of everyone's life, that looks so mundane. I imagine that seen from the outside, mine also looks normal, even if it doesn't feel like that at all.

Since you left, every day feels like this.

The cigarette pack empties without me noticing. The smoke that comes out of my mouth now is not from tobacco, but from the winter-like cold that has arrived just at midnight. Pedestrians disappear, and vehicular traffic becomes just two to three cars every three minutes. Without a source of noise, it feels as if the whole world has gone to sleep.

My cheeks feel numb, so I finally decide to return inside the apartment. I close the sliding door behind me, to prevent this cold from entering, and I let myself get lost in the gloom. In the silence.

I move in the dark, stumbling a couple of times. Since you left, things have changed a bit. In a way, that bothers me, more than I dare to admit. After all, I should stick to my routine. The schedule must be followed. That's what I promised.

With the dim light coming through the balcony door, I slide between the bed and the desk, and finally turn on the lights. And so, I'm welcomed by all the stuff that I haven't been able to fix in recent days: old magazines are waiting in the living room's table, dirty dishes are piled at the sink, dirty clothes are scattered at bed end.

My life.

I spend a couple of minutes watching the silent chaos, and finally, I turn on the TV. A silent sitcom says hi, and so, I start to pick up all the trash. It is vital to return to my schedule.

The dishes are cleaned and placed away.

The clothes are washed and dried.

The furniture gets cleaned and so, the layer of dust that had gradually settled is finally whipped away.

The old magazines are taken to recycling, and the rest of the garbage finds its way into the dumpster down the street.

The bed is made every morning, and once a week the covers and sheets are changed by clean ones.

From time to time, I decide to have a cigar at the balcony, a beer in front of the TV, or even dedicate a couple of hours playing online.

Lunch is prepared every morning. A balanced breakfast, accompanied by reading those books I had left unread. It is time now to finish them.

A schedule. A busy schedule.

I take care of my job. Meetings with the boss so to set our new goals for the next quarter.

I take care of my friends. Going out at a nearby Korean barbeque restaurant, where we can catch up and congratulate each other on the good news.

I take care of my family. Reunions where my nephews play between my legs, while my parents try not to ask about you, and yet my grandparents insist once again that I'm the only one that hasn't given them a grandson.

Those are the most difficult reunions.

I'm back at the apartment I leave the keys on the table next to the door, and instead of turning on the light, once again it's the silent television that keeps me company. The schedule continues: wake up early to go to work, make time in the afternoon to go to the gym. My friends invite me to dinner every other night, and so I usually arrive home late, exhausted, only waiting to sleep and get done with the next day.

However, that small space between resting my head on the pillow and falling asleep, my thoughts are always filled the remembrance of you. What you were, what we had.

As I close my eyes, I can't help wondering what you'll be doing, and if you're truly as happy with him, as you promised me you would be.

I already knew that you were lying to me for a long time. I was no longer what you needed: in your heart there was no room for me. The happiness that I had given you was nothing compared to everything he offered you.

I had to recognize my defeat, and let you leave me. Without grudges, for the love I still have for you will keep me from hating you. Forever.

There is no bad-blood between us.

And now, while I tell myself that I am happy if you are happy, while I finally fall asleep, my subconscious cannot help asking itself:

_Will my heart remain empty, despite all my attempts to fill it with something worthwhile?_

Tomorrow, I'm back to the programmed schedule.

A busy schedule.

A schedule planned to get home, and not think about you.

* * *

_This fic is the result of listening to the refered song for about an hour on loop. Altho the one-shot is quite short, I feel it sums up everything I wanted to say, and felt while listening to the melody._

_The story never says who narrates it, so you can make up your conclusions. If you ask me, I feel this gives me Eriol vibes. Maybe a bit of Touya. Feel free to comment it on a review._

_See ya soon._

_-Ribo._


End file.
